


Talia

by Sookiestark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragons, Dreams, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Future Fic, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:06:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: Tyrion has lots of things to worry about as the Hand of the Queen on Dragonstone, an upcoming invasion of Westeros, uncomfortable reunion with his wife and brother, Cersei's increasing instabilty, etc. He never thought he would have to deal with a ghost from his past.A tale of what happened to Tysha after she left Casterly Rock.





	1. Tyrion 301 AC- Dragonstone -Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write a story where Tysha doesn't kill herself or become a whore.... Also, I know we probably will never see what happens to her, so this is for all the Tysha fans out there...

Tyrion was drinking with his new favorite drinking companion, Lord Benedict Baitwell, who had the luck to be born the fourth son Lord of Welstone, a small keep in the Reach. Benedict’s grandfather or great grandfather had been given the keep for service in one of the uprisings or rebellions that grew out of the Blackfyres, but before that, they were sellswords, menagerie keepers and hunters of dangerous things. Benedict, or Ben as he was called by most, being the fourth had very few prospects and become a tamer of wild animals. With all the wars and fighting, Benedict Baitwell found himself the new Lord of Welstone. They had drunk quite a bit of wine and ale. Tyrion knew his head would feel the pain tomorrow but in a few weeks, his head might be on a pike over the Red Keep. Better to drink today and hurt tomorrow. Ben was a thin boy with reddish brown hair. He had three claw marks across his face from a lion or bear and he grew his beard in to help hide it. Tyrion understood using beards to cover injury.

Ben was the royal dragon master for his Queen’s children, her dragons, and was highly recommended by Olenna Tyrell. He had come from Oldtown by the Hightowers, who had kept menageries on and off for centuries. Ben was making a living off his family’s work of trapping and taming fierce creatures.. Elephants, lions, tigers, bears,.. Ben had studied awhile at the Citadel, until the death of the first brother and his father pulled him home. Ben had come with his new wife to Dragonstone, at the request of the Queen.  
The Queen had seemed to genuinely like Ben because he genuinely seemed to like the beasts. When he had heard how some wanted to lock the dragons up again, like they had in Mereen, Ben had protested greatly. When one Lord said that the dragons might start eating children again, Ben spoke in his calm way, much like Tyrion could see him speaking to a lion or an elephant, about how a child or even a man would not have nearly as much meat as a large fish or a cow or fattened goat and if given a choice between the two the animals could learn to eat one and leave the other alone, like a man would choose a chicken or goose over a sparrow. The Queen had smiled and softened whenever Benedict Baitwell was near. 

Tyrion knew that his Queen felt safer knowing that her children were cared for by someone who might care and respect them, as much as she. As Hand of the Queen, it was his job too make sure that his Queen’s interests were protected and safe. Tyrion had investigated the boy and his family and had Varys watch and it appeared all was as it seemed. After all, Ben Baitwell had come highly recommended by Lady Olenna Tyrell. Someone he couldn’t really trust, even if it seemed she and her armies were committed to the Targaryen cause. Ben was all he seemed to be, a young bookish man of eighteen, who was loyal, honest, and committed to the care of the great beasts. All was as it seemed, until stories of Ben’s young bride started surfacing. 

Ben reminded him of Pod. He hoped to introduce them after the invasion and when Daenerys was on the Iron throne. Through Varys, he had heard that Pod was still with that strange woman knight, Brienne of Tarth and that they were both in Sansa Stark’s service. Secretly, it gladdened him that Pod was near Sansa and if they had that giant next to them, perhaps both Pod and Sansa might make it out of the coming storm unscathed. Pod had gone through terrible times and seemed to come out better. Tyrion imagined that both Pod and Ben would make it through relatively unscathed, a few more scars but on their feet. Tyrion didn’t know if he or Sansa could hope for the same.  
Daenerys had landed in Dragonstone over a moon ago and already ravens had begun to reply to her requests for fealty and to take back King’s Landing. Today they had received two ravens, one from the King of the North, Jon Snow, saying he would like to meet with the Queen. The other had been from Lady Sansa Stark Lannister Bolton. She stated she would be coming with her brother to treat with them, but that she would like an audience with the Queen’s Hand to speak with him of many things. 

His queen had raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. “A good sign?”  
“I think the good lady would like to annul the whole thing.”  
Daenerys did not speak of it again but she smiled like she had a secret.

Tyrion had brushed it off and gone about his day. After all, he had to think of the upcoming war with Cersei and his brother, cunning strategies to outsmart them and put his Queen on the Iron Throne. But all day, it had been a knife in his heart and all he could think on… So, tonight he drank. Benedict Baitwell was willing to drink the Hand’s wine. He was a good companion to drink with, maybe not as good as Bronn, but infinitely better than Grey Worm or Varys. He knew a great deal about history, dragons, beasts from around the world, and wine. Tyrion liked the boy and was enjoying the evening, but he also was a matter he needed to bring up.

Tyrion started, “I wanted to talk to you about if you could make a saddle… I think the Queen intends to ride Drogon and anything we can do to ensure her safety.” 

“Of course we could, my Lord Hand, but I have consulted all the books and I don’t think Drogon will drop her. I would be more concerned that a saddle would interrupt the magic between a dragon and their rider and be more likely for injury or death from a fall.”

Tyrion drank some more. “How are they getting on? The dragons?”

“Dragonstone is a natural place for them. They thrive here in the magic and the heat from the volcano. We might even have a clutch of dragon eggs in a few years.” Ben’s face was flushed from wine. 

 

Tyrion looked at him when he spoke, laughter in his voice, “Also, she has started talking about finding dragon riders for the other two. Can you imagine anyone who would dare to get close to the beasts?”

Ben drained his glass and as Tyrion poured another glass for his friend. Ben spoke looking him in the eyes, trying to weigh out what danger the words held. 

“Who told you about Talia and the dragons?”

“Dragonstone is a busy place for sure, filled with people. Surely, you didn’t think a slip of a girl who some say the beasts will let touch them would go completely unnoticed.” 

“My lord, I am sorry.. My wife is infatuated with them and they take to her like I have never seen beasts take to a thing. Except for the Queen. Of course, they are closer to the Queen. Not meaning any disrespect. She is a low-born girl but Viserion takes to her like a pup, like she raised him and fed him from her hand. I have threatened her with what I could but she goes back everyday. She tells me she has dreamed of them her whole life. Foolish girl dreams. She is simple, beautiful but simple.” 

“What is your wife’s name?”

“Talia”.

“What House is Talia from?”

“She isn’t. She is from the smallfolk. Her parents ran an inn on the Goldroad, in the village near Welstone, The Stone and the Plow. Her father was a huge man, one of the biggest I have ever seen, and was a blacksmith, then a innkeep. Our Man-at-Arms say he helped in the Greyjoy Rebellion and fought like he had been trained. My father liked him and when the roads became unsafe, we warded Talia to keep her safe.” 

Ben was furtive and stumbling over his words, but it clear he was passionately in love with his wife. Tyrion could imagine that he had argued all the girl's wonderful traits and her family’s virtues with his father and now, speaking of them was as much part of the conversation when he spoke of her. Tyrion had done the same years ago with his own father, but it had ended unhappily. Not for Ben. Ben’s blue eyes were bright and he looked in his cup, realizing he might have spoke too freely.  
“My father wasn’t too happy with the match, but my first wife was for duty. Talia was for love. I am the fourth son and it is easier for a fourth son to marry for love.”

“Especially if that son doesn’t care to eat.”

My Lord, she sometimes helps me... She is good with the dragons, but she is a good, simple girl, loyal. Talia means no harm.” 

“I would like to meet your wife”. 

“Of course, my lord. She is not used to nobility and she is rough. Normally, she keeps out of the way of lords. But, I will, if you wish.” 

“Bring her here tomorrow in the afternoon.” 

Ben seemed affected by the conversation and made his excuses, stumbling off to meet his wife. Tyrion silently finished his wine. He wished he still bedded whores because he felt tense and distracted. He thought to himself that he might be able to find some lady in Dragonstone who might be willing to bed the Hand of the Queen for the night. 

Tyrion thoughts kept going back to on how this girl was not simple and what was Ben hiding or trying to change. If Ben was vain or shallow, Tyrion could see him settling for a pretty but simple daughter of a lord, or at least a wealthy merchant. Ben was neither vain nor shallow and someone and this peasant girl brought no wealth.This was not a simple thing. One might let a simple girl, full of silly dreams, feed domestic animals, safe animals, cows, sheep, ducks. But surely, Benedict Baitwell would not let his beautiful simple wife, who he loved, feed dangerous dragons. There was more to this story.


	2. Tyrion 301 AC- Part 2

She came to him the next day, behind her husband. Ben was at least four years older than her and he held her hand, even though she seemed to hide behind him. She had a fine green dress of wool on, probably the finest one she owned. Talia curtsied awkwardly, a few steps behind her husband. One of the servants poured wine and set out cheese, bread, fruit. “Please sit.”

Ben and Talia sat on a couch next to each other across from Tyrion. Ben’s description of his wife as pretty was less than accurate. With a head full of golden curls, she was beautiful. Her hair was to her shoulders but the color was what shook Tyrion, golden like Cersei and her children. The color of Lannisters. In fact, she looked like his sister, when she was young, not so proud but surely as pretty. It startled him and he found it unsettling.. Like looking at a ghost.

Talia would not look up at him, but kept her eyes averted to the floor, frightened and awkward. Tyrion was used to common folk being fearful and awkward, but he wanted to see her face. 

“Thank you for coming here, Talia. I asked Ben to bring you here so we could speak about the dragons. Would you like some wine?” 

Ben stood up and took the cups and brought one to his wife and kept the other, thanking him. When he sat next to her, he picked up her hand and held it, reassuring her. He saw her raise her head and smile at Ben.  
“Ben, you are right. Your wife is lovely. Does she speak?”

Ben spoke, “As I said, my lord she has rough manners and is common. Talia, speak to Lord Tyrion.”

Talia was small, smaller than Cersei was at her age, thin, willowy. She reminded him of a bird, quick and light. At the sight of her, he could hear her heartbeat fluttering beneath her pale skin, nervous energy bounded in her body. 

“Milord, I speak well enough. “The voice was sweet and soft. She raised her head some and drank the wine.

“Talia, I hear that you like the dragons and that they like you..”

“Milord, I love them. Viserion is my favorite, milord. I am sorry if I did something wrong. I didn’t mean to.. Ben didn’t have any part to my behavior. I snuck out at night to go and sit with them. I just sit and talk to them. Sometimes, I watch them fly over the cliffs over the waves and hunt fish and porpoises in the sea. Ben threatened to send me home. Please don’t send me home. I don’t bother them.”

“Would you look at me?”

She looked up at him and it was a face that looked like Myrcella, the nose smaller, but the face was achingly similar. It made him wonder if she was related to him somehow.. He took some steps closer to look at this face so similar to his sweet dead niece.

“Yes, milord.” 

He was eye level to her but she would not look at him. He felt his hair on his arms stand up. It was looking into the face of the dead. Perhaps a Lannister had snuck from the Rock under his father's watchful eye and had gotten this girl on some innkeeper's wife. Maybe Gerion, though Gerion would have brought her up with Joy. Not kept her a secret. Regardless of Tywin’s disapproval, Gerion would have.

“Where were you born?”

“I was born in the Westerlands, but my parents went to the Reach for the inn when I was young.”

Talia looked so much like Myrcella that maybe she was Jaime’s daughter. She seemed small and young, any age between twelve and sixteen. Maybe some indiscretion, a drunken night. Jaime had always been Cersei’s, as long as this child had been alive. There were no indiscretions from Jaime. That was more like Tyrion.  
“Who was your father?”

“My real father I never knew and my mother never thought to tell me. But, Will is my Pa. He loves me like he loves my little brothers. He never hit me, even when I was bad and lost in my dreams.”  
Tyrion had not noticed but he was standing in front of her, cup in hand. He reached to tilt her face toward him but did not touch her. His arm suspended, frozen with fear and anticipation.  
“Talia, will you look at me?”

She looked to her husband for permission and Talia raised her eyes and looked at Tyrion, shyly but directly. Immediately, they were both startled by the sound of Tyrion’s cup hitting the floor. 

She had one emerald green eye and one violet blue, dark. 

He laughed awkwardly. “Lucky for me, it was empty.”

Tyrion picked up the glass and wandered to the table where the pitcher sat to pour himself some more and he hoped his hands weren’t shaking. 

“Talia, what was your mother’s name?”

“Everyone called my mother Auntie. But that was not her name... My mother’s given name was Tysha, milord Hand.” 

Carefully, Tyrion revealed no expression. There were enough people who knew he had been married and the name of the girl. How hard would it be to find a Lannister-looking girl in the Westerlands? It was literally crawling with Lannister cousins. This girl could even be a spy of Cersei’s sent to injury the beasts. But how easy would it be to find one with two different colored eyes? He revealed no emotion and Talia and her husband seemed to be without guile, looking at each other. 

He thought to himself what could this mean and spoke, “Benedict Baitwell I would like to invite you and your wife to dine with me in my solar tonight. I haven’t had the good company of folk from the Westerlands, in a long while and I would enjoy your company and we can discuss this more…”


	3. Tysha 286 AC- Part 1

The housekeeper, a gentle faced women with her mouth pressed in a scowl, took her down a back way. She wonders if the scowl is because she thinks she is a common whore that tricked the little lord into marrying her or is it something else. Tysha does not hope too much. She keeps her eyes down and counts the steps down the dark staircase. The women is familiar with the way but Tysha watches her feet and is unsure. Her legs don’t feel like they are attached to her body. Concentrate she tells herself. She counts eighty seven steps. Her legs and back ache and she knows there is blood and worse staining her legs and back. 

The housekeeper was the one the steward sent with the guards to help her dress after the Lord sent her from Casterly Rock. “Get her out of here.” the steward had said with disdain. Lord Lannister had taught her a lesson and now she must be leave, quickly and with no fanfare. 

The housekeeper had brought a plain dress of brown, a towel, and a sack. She had helped Tysha up and helped her put both arms in the dress. “Your back will hurt. There are some bruises, but nothing too bad. It could have been worse.”

At that, Tysha had almost let herself cry but the housekeeper did not look like she was here to soothe her and she did not want to anger the woman. After all, she was helping her. Tysha wanted to get as far away from here as she could and this woman wanted the same thing. The housekeeper had handed her the towel to wipe her face. Her lip had split and her mouth was bleeding. Gently, she placed the towel on her face.   
Then, silently they had gathered the pieces of the dress her husband had bought her. It had been red and he had called her his lady wife, when she had put it on this morning. This morning, he was her husband but now he was not. When the pieces were gathered, the woman helped her place each one of the silver coins inside the remains and the one gold on top and she tied it up tight, like a purse. She handed it to her. “This is yours now, girl. Let no one take it from you. Keep it safe.”   
When they reach the bottom of the stairs, they turn down one hallway, then another. Tysha counts twelve turns and another 32 stairs. They come to a gate and a door. She pushes open the door and there are two guards playing dice and enjoying the sun. “Hey Neela, what have you there? Did you find her in the kitchen with a squire?” 

The other one pipes in, “Is she for us? It gets lonely out here guarding the back stairs.”

Tysha presses into the larger woman’s body, afraid that she will be given to them. Neela chides them, “No, she is not for you. I wouldn’t be talking such. You know what Lord Tywin thinks about such goings on in his house. You will be looking for work if he gets wind of it.”. She grabs Tysha’s arm and leads her to the back of the yard, behind the kitchens, where deliveries and stables are. The housekeeper finds a man she is looking for, “Take her through the town, to the southern gate. Drop her off on the edge of the forest outside of the gate. By Lord Tywin’s commands. Don’t speak to her. Come right back.” 

She helps the girl climb into the back of the wagon. Tysha notices that in her other hand the woman has a sack. The woman hands her the sack. “Girl, this is for you. Don’t come back to the Rock, if you know what’s good for you. No matter what. Even if your belly swells. Lord Lannister doesn’t suffer fools or whores.”   
Tysha goes to protest. Her throat is tight and it hurts, as if she has been screaming but she knows she made no sound. In fact, she thinks she may have lost her voice and never speak again. It hurts too much to make a sound.

The woman leans in, “I don’t think you are a whore, but you overreached, girl and that makes you a fool. A poor foolish girl which means you are destined to be a whore. I know what happened in the barracks today and worse will happen if you ever come back.”

The woman takes the ripped dress that she has tied the silver in. “You put that in there , She helps her put it in the sack. “And get yourself home. Your family is probably worried for you.” 

The old man rides quietly through the town. Tysha wonders if he knows what has happened to her and that she is ruined, ruined beyond some kind words. The housekeeper’s words ring in her ears, Get yourself home.. Your family is probably worried sick for you. She has no family and no home. 

She could go back to the empty hut where her father died two months ago from fever. Her family is all dead. She wonders, if anyone even missed her from her village, near the river. 

Her head seems far away, so she touches it to see if it is still there. Her black hair is full of snarls and the back of her head has bumps and is bleeding. The pain feels real and it makes the faraway feeling less. Concentrate, she tells herself. 

The man slows the horses, as they near the forest. He doesn’t move to help her off the cart. When she stands, she feels her legs buckle from the soreness and the trauma. She thanks him by a simple nod and runs into the forest, following the river. She must run before the pain and stiffness catches up and she is unable to move. She has about three or four hours of daylight left. She slows down and heads to the forest and the river. Stopping in the river, she drinks the water. She washes her cheeks, her mouth and the blood from her body, splashing the water between her legs. The cold water makes the sore flesh sting. But she is grateful she is alive, so very grateful. She says a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother, while she is in the river. 

Tysha climbs to the riverbank and listens, like a rabbit might for predators. She looks inside the sack the woman gave her. There is some brown bread, two apples, some cheese tied in paper, a waterskin. There is a blanket, woolen, hand knit, worn but soft. There is a bag of herbs for tea. Tysha wonders what kind of tea, for the pain or to make sure there is no reason for her to go back to Casterly Rock. 

There is one more thing in the bag. She doesn’t want to touch it, so it sits heavy in the bag. Twenty three silver coins and one gold, wrapped in the tatters of a pretty new dress. More money than she has ever seen. She knows how much danger she is in having so much money. She is a young girl with no protection.

Thinking quickly, she formulates a plan. She only has about three hours and she has to try to get herself safe. Concentrate she tells herself. She begins to count her steps. Counting is so much better than thinking on what happened today.


	4. Tysha 286 AC- Part 2

She sits at the edge of the clearing looking at the cottage on the edge of the sea. The sea wind is strong and blows her hair all around. She doesn’t know how long she has sat here looking at the cottage, trying to build her courage. She needs to go into the cottage for her things, but she is afraid, afraid of the guards, afraid of the Lannisters. 

She is practical. There is a pair of boots, a warm cloak, some blankets, her small iron pot that she uses to cook. 

The little wooden door is still open and swinging in the breeze. It has been open since the guards burst in and brought her to Casterly Rock. She has waited in the grass and trees thinking about how fast she can get in and get out. Will she be quick enough? Is it thievery if she takes only what he gave her? No there is another name for that …

Marriage, she reminds herself. They were married. She was not his whore, regardless of what they called her, regardless of how they treated her. It is almost sunset and if she wishes to get to the village before dark, she must go now. Or walk away from it all.

The growing darkness and her need push her toward the cottage. Breathless, she enters the small cottage like a lion might jump out and eat her. Rushing through the rooms, she takes her threadbare dresses and the three new ones he bought her, her boots, her doll that her dead mother made her, the pot, the bread they bought yesterday She makes sure the fire is out, no reason for the cottage to burn down.

She takes the blanket, the salt, the small pot of butter, He has left his books, his clothes, several bottles of wine that they hadn’t even opened. Tyrion didn't really like the way it made him feel and she didn't like the taste. She leaves the fine sheets and the silverware, the pillows, the sweets that he bought wrapped in shiny paper. 

There is one thing she takes that is Tyrion’s and she folds it tight and wraps it in the old woolen blanket. The red and gold cloak he tied around her on the day they were married. She knows if she is caught with it, she could be beat or worse, but it is so fine and it smells like him when he would press against her, as they slept. It is too precious to leave behind and she flees.


	5. Tysha 286 AC Part 3

She goes to the person she trusts more than anyone in the village, her best friend, Jack. Jack works in the tavern in the village. His father is the innkeeper and his mother would sometimes pay her for her help when they were busy. Jack has three brothers and two sisters. His two oldest brothers no longer live with the family. The elder brother is a crofter, not far from her father’s old place, with a wife and children of his own. The second brother is an apprentice to the metalsmith on the edge of town. The talk in the village is the two older boys were from his first wife, and when he married the second, she wouldn’t rest until the boys were fostered out.  
She waits for him in the yard, seeing the light from the kitchen. She is afraid to go to close. She has seen no guards, no soldiers, but she is scared for the safety of her village. How dare you overreach? If they were to come, she would not want anyone to be hurt, but she would never want Jack or his family to suffer. 

Tysha knows what Lord Tywin Lannister has done to his enemies. He has destroyed ancient Houses, diverted rivers to drown the children of his enemies, ordered the murder of the Prince and Princess. No one can stand against him. Surely, she will suffer more. There is no way she is out of his reach. 

She feels the cuts on the back of her head and the bruises on her back and thighs are starting to ache. As the hours grow late, she knows she will need to rest. She waits for Jack, listening to him humming as he scrubs pots. . He hears her in the yard, and poked his head out in the dark ”Tysha, is that you? Be right out.”  
She covered her head with the blanket, so he wouldn’t see the bruises. If he saw her injuries, he would come out right away but she is nervous what she will say.

She has nowhere to go. There is another family renting the cottage she lived her whole life in. Jack has been her only friend and would sneak out burned bread and porridge that was overcooked. She had thought she had loved him before, that they might be married. His mother thought her too poor and when her father died, she had never offered to help. 

Jack is smiling, when he walks into the muddy yard. He is fourteen and protected. When he sees her face, his smile falls from his face.

“What has happened, Tysha?”

“Some men fell upon me in the woods.” 

“Gods, look at you. You are lucky to be alive. Let me call for the healer. I will get Mother.”

“I will be fine. Maybe your mother would let me sleep in the barn.” She reaches for him to stop him from getting his mother. Tysha does not think she has the strength in her to face the hard stare of Jack’s mother. 

“Where have you been? I have been worried. You disappeared weeks ago.” Jack’s tone is soft and he takes her hands.

She starts to answer him, her hands in his, but his mother comes out. She is wiping her hands on a towel and looks angry. Before either of them can speak, his mother says, “She cannot stay here. Tysha, take your trouble and leave. Go on. Jack, come back inside.”

He looks at her and back to his mother. There is a flash of anger, but he does not speak against his mother.  
Jack goes in and shuts the door. At the idea of the only place she might find help shutting the door on her is too much. She starts crying softly in the darkness. There is a brothel on the far side of the village on the road for travelers to Casterly Rock and Lannisport. They might take her in. 

She will go sleep in the woods and hope for the best. A figure comes out of the tavern. It is a huge shadow of a man.  
“Tysha,” the shadow says. It is Jack’s second oldest brother, Will, who is an apprentice at the blacksmith. 

He sees her crying in the darkness and his face is as gentle as his voice. “Don’t cry. You can come back to the shop. Old Kane will let you sleep in the front room. In the morning, we will talk with him and figure it out.” 

He gives her a hand to help her up and she stands. Then, her feet fall from under her. Tysha knows for certain she is bleeding and she realizes she hasn’t eaten all day.

He picks her up like she is a baby. She tries to protest, croaking out in a cracked voice, “My things. My bags.” 

He balances her and picks them up and starts walking in the darkness. Of course, he has walked this path probably a thousand times since he was fostered years ago. 

“What happened?” He asks it, gently 

“Some men found me in the woods.” It's not really a lie she thinks. That is how it all started..

“Old Kane won't mind you there. The girl we had left for Lannisport. You can help with the housework.” 

She does not want to go to Kane Tule’s house. He is one of the finest armorers and metalworkers in all of Westeros, and he is the Lannister’s man. Kane could live anywhere, Oldtown, King’s Landing, but he choose to live off the Goldroad. There are some that say he had sons and daughters, but they died and now all he has is his metal She remembers when one of the Lannisters got a full set of armor how he father had her peek in the windows of the front room and she saw a glimpse of the beautiful silver and gold lion, wrought on a chest of silver and gold. 

Kane is known in the village for more than fancy armor and shoeing a horse now and again. When he chose to build his shop, he built it next to the brothel on the outside of town. So, the only two buildings on the road are his shop and the whorehouse. He is a frequent customer at the brothel and he is known for the corruption of some of the girls from the town. Though when she thinks about the girls that have lived with Kane, none of them had a spotless reputation before they moved to his house. 

Will sings absently, like he has forgotten he carries her down the dark trail. Will has been Kane’s apprentice since he was seven. Kane usually has two or three boys but Will has been with him the longest, older than twenty and still with him. Jack never remembers his brother living with his parents in the little inn. 

“I don’t want to go to Kane’s house. Imagine what the village will say,” she says and she pushes him. He sets her down, gently expecting her to fall. 

She steadies herself, clears her voice. “I mean no disrespect but I don’t want to go to Kane’s house.” 

He looks at her, blue eyes solemn. “Where will you sleep?”  
She looks at her hands.. “I’m not sure.”

“I know how people talk about Kane but he is not half as bad as most make him out to be. He is kind hearted under all that gruff, and would want you to have a safe place to spend the night. No one will bother you and in the morning, if you need to move on, no one will stop you. Jack’s mother already saw you, so the village will have plenty to talk about whether you spend tonight at Kane’s shop.”  
Tysha thinks where she could sleep and there is no good place. Maybe she could stay out of sight, quiet and unnoticed. The day is finally taking its toll on her and she can barely keep her eyes open. 

It is so dark and yet, Will seems to know the way. He holds out his arm, so she could take it like she is a lady. She does. They walk in the moonlight to the shop with the little well and the sound of horses breathing heavy with sleep in their pen. 

Tysha follows Will into the back door of the shop. It opens into the kitchen with a hearth and a large table with chairs. Kane is drinking some brown liquid out of a bottle and he is drunk. He has a candle in front of him, several coins, a necklace and a knife. He raises his head when Will comes in the house. “You are awfully late, Will.”

Tysha hides behind Will. Will speaks,“Father needed some help and paid me in ale. Mother sends a pork pie.” He sets it down on the table, in the sack he carried along with hers. 

“Who is that behind you?” Kane asks. 

“This is Tysha. Her father was a crofter who died when the fever hit the village a few months back. She had some hard times and could use some work. I know Laral left and Tysha said she would help clean and cook for her keep until you find another one.” Will steps aside and Tysha takes a small step forward in the kitchen.  
Kane looks at her, critically. “You are scrawny girl. Have you been starving?” 

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she says, “I am a hard worker, ser and I am not lazy. I won’t expect to not work hard every day.”

“Come closer, girl.”  
She hesitates. Can he see what happened is it visible? She looks at Will and he nudges her forward. The old smith doesn’t touch her but he looks at her split lip, her bruised eyes, the hand prints on her throat and arms. 

“How many?” He asks.

“I am sorry, ser. I don’t understand what you mean…” but her voice breaks. 

“Those cunts,” he says. “Sleep in the front room. Will, get her some blankets and some water and soap. She might want to wash up. I’m going to bed. We can talk in the morning.”  
“Thank you, ser,” she says to his retreating form, as he goes into his room and shuts the door.

Tysha tries to make herself small, as he gathers towels, blankets, a water pitcher and a piece of the pork pie. He takes the candle from the table and leads her to the front room, which is where lords and rich merchants come to look at the merchandise. 

The front room is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. Every wall is edged with paintings of flowers and animals in a trail of vines with fruits of all colors, vibrant. On two of the walls are scenes of battles. One wall is a scene of a battle, huge with archers and soldiers. The other one has two dragons fighting with silver haired knights on the back. 

She hears her voice sigh before she can stop herself. He must think she is simple, but the colors and likenesses are so colorful, so beautiful. She has never seen anything like it.

He smiles as he sets the things down and hands her the plate with the pie on it. Will nods for her to eat. “Do you like them? This is the Battle of the Gods Eye. This one is Aemond Targaryen and here is Daemon Targaryen, his uncle. The wall over here is the Battle for Redgrass Field, almost done Over on this wall, I think will be the Ninepenny War. But here, I will start next and I will paint the Battle of the Trident. Rhaegar Targaryen falling with blood and rubies and King Robert with his antlered helm and a mighty hammer.” 

“It is beautiful. I have never seen anything so beautiful,” she whispers.

He smiles, “Thank you.”

“You did this?..” 

“I paint after work most nights. Kane used to have a Myrish painter here to help for a few years on color and designs, and he taught me how to paint and draw. Sometimes after work, it helps. I put some wet plaster and I paint, until it all comes out. If I don’t like it, I lay another layer of plaster and start again. Sometimes, it is all I can think about. The lords and knights, who come to buy, look at them and tell me what banners to put or what I forgot to put in.” 

Will goes outside to get her a small tub with water and brings it in. The water is cold, but it is better than nothing. She is sitting up in the blankets, looking at the paintings, imagining what it would be like to be able to draw lines and color with a brush and pencil, to make images pop from wet plaster into breathtaking stories from history. She has no talents. There is nothing special about her. Her husband had made her feel special, beautiful and precious, a treasure that he would hoard. But all the treasure slipped away when morning broke, and the guards dragged them to Casterly Rock.

“Is the door locked?” she says.  
“Yes.. barred.. See”. He shows her.  
They could get in if they wanted. They might come back. She is safe nowhere. She is nothing.  
He looks at her, as if he can read her thoughts, “You are safe here. I ‘m going in the back to sleep.”  
She looks at him, anxious. “Will you stay with me?”

He looks at her, “I don’t think that would be right... “

She nods and blows out the candle. After all, candles are costly and she no way to pay for it. Tysha listens to him walk through the kitchen and into the back where the apprentices sleep. She listens but soon all she hears is silence. Getting up using only the moonlight, she washes her feet, her legs, her thighs, her sex, her belly, her chest, her neck, her face, her arms. In the dark she can see the dimples of deepest violet and blue from hands all over her white skin. No matter how bad it looks in the darkness, it will look so much worse tomorrow.


	6. Tysha 286 AC Part 4

She has fallen into a gentle rhythm of days in peace. Waking in the dawn, she gets up and sweeps, draws water from the well and starts breakfast. She collects eggs and milks the cow. She cleans the house. She cooks the food for all of them.   
For a few days, she caught a fever and was really sick. When she wakes, Will is there by her wiping her brow, “I couldn't let Jacks lady love die. Surely, he would kill me.” 

One the first morning, she woke with a fever and couldn’t move. Will stayed nearby helping with towels and water. Kane even had the midwife from the village next door come and look at her. When the midwife leaves, Tysha pulls the tea out of her sack, that she sleeps with, and asks Will to boil some water. He doesn't ask questions and she seeps the tea and drinks it, then again, then again. Until the last batch of tea is so weak, it is the faintest yellow-tinged water. He watches her and she falls asleep for a whole day.

After that, she gets up and puts in a full day’s labor, everyday, regardless of the pain. 

Jack tries in the beginning, when she first starts living at Kane’s house. He sneaks away from the inn when he can and visits with her under the apple tree, Dale, Al and Gawain, Kane’s other apprentices, laugh and tease him about wanting so much more than apples under a tree. Somehow, she cannot remember how it was to be with him before. How his stories seemed so golden. His laughter so rich. His eyes so blue. When he would grow bold and reach for her hand or kiss her close-mouthed and soft. How her heart would beat fiercely and so hard. Even though it has been only a moon’s time, there is so much difference in one turn of the moon. She feels comfort in his visit, but Jack does not stir her like before, and Tysha finds herself wishing he would leave.

It happens slowly, steady like a heartbeat or a rain storm. Jack’s mother thinks of a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t visit the little shop on the edge of the Goldroad. It is too far away. There are too many things to do. Tysha is a ruined girl. What if those men come back? She is dangerous. 

Whether Jack comes or not, she collects apples, to make applesauce and apple pies for Kane and the boys. Sometimes, she can trade her pies for something she needs like honey or spices. She finds herself spending nights in the kitchen at the table mending and watching Will mix colors and run stained fingers through his brown hair, She starts to love the smell of the paints, crushed powder mixed with egg, wet plaster, mixed with the scent of burning beeswax candles. 

Will does not press her to speak or listen to his tales of life with Kane. They are able to be silent together and she is grateful for that luxury. She has heard from Dale that Will and Kane went to aid one side or another during Robert’s Rebellion and they were there at the Battle of the Trident when silver-haired Prince Rhaegar fell. Everyone knows the Lannisters did not fight, so she does not know how that is possible. She knows other girls might ask. Other girls might be curious, but it does not matter to her. Tysha likes the fact Will doesn’t ask her questions about what happened. 

She cleans for Kane and keeps his house. Kane teases her and says he should marry her. Sometimes when she lies on the floor at night, she wonders if he is serious. It wouldn’t be a bad life and she would always have enough to eat. 

One evening, she catches Will looking at her, his face soft, like when he paints. “You are as beautiful as the Maiden.” 

“Don’t be sacrilegious.”   
“I mean it.” 

The conversation of that night lies between them, unspoken but growing. She hopes the silence will kill his feelings but she fears she might also have a softness for him in her heart.

One afternoon, Will asks her where Jack has been.

She looks up from potatoes and counts how many weeks since she has seen him.”Three weeks. I guess his mother has won and he will not be back.” 

Tysha looks at him speaking softly, “He probably deserves better- a maiden to marry.” 

He takes her hands and she realizes how big he is compared to her. Her hands look like a child in his. “I think you are better than my brother Jack deserves.” 

She looks up at him and realizes she hasn’t been this close to anyone since that night he carried her some of the way on that dark path. 

Will continues speaking, “I hear you cry at night. I hear you have bad dreams...”

But she is lost in her thoughts... Three weeks since Jack has been here and she has been here for two months. It is then she realizes that she has not bled the whole time and she knows she is truly ruined. The tea did not help and a baby is coming. She starts crying in the potatoes. 

After the crying, she tells him about the baby. Will goes to the shop to talk to Kane. He comes back after a few minutes. Will cleans a space in the loft and they put a small bed up there for Tysha. Later that night, Kane tells her she can stay as long as she needs with the baby.

Tysha finds she likes sleeping around the armor and the swords. It makes her feel safe.


	7. Tyrion 301 Part 3

Tyrion had difficulty sleeping and climbed from his bed and made his way to the library at Dragonstone. He had been reading about dragons and Targaryens. The bond was in the magical blood of old Valyria, which is one of the reasons Targaryens married their relatives. To keep the magical ability in their bloodline.

In the Dance of the Dragon, Queen Rhaenyra had three dragons that had no riders and so she went out searching for dragon seed. The idea was that their had been Targaryens on Dragonstone before the time of the Conqueror and the Targaryens had their fair share of bastards with innkeeper daughters, farmer daughters, whores, ladies. Surely, one of these bastards might be able to have enough blood of Old Valyria to ride a dragon, dragon seed. Out of hundreds they had found three. All three had been from the immediate vicinity of Dragonstone. 

He had been looking through genealogies to see if a Lannister had ever married a Targaryen bastard or lady, though Tyrion felt he would know if a Targaryen princess had married a Lannister. Often, that was something a House remembered like the Arryns or the Baratheons, and bragged endlessly on and on about. It was something that would have been flouted in the Hall of Heroes at Casterly Rock and he could not remember ever hearing a mention. 

It was possible the girl wasn’t a Lannister. That all of this was a trick, a plot. There were many people who did not like him. 

Though, how hard would it be to find a girl who looked so much like a Lannister, even with the hay on her dress and dirt on her nose. Especially one with mismatched eyes. It would be more sensible if she was his and they had twisted her to use her against him and his queen. After all, she probably hated him. Tysha had most probably hated him after being sorely misused and the bitterness seeped into his daughter. Talia was a weapon to be used against him.

But why would his daughter be able to soothe dragons? Luck? 

There was a more disturbing idea that kept bubbling to the dark surface of his mind. One of his father’s last words were “You are no son of mine.”


	8. Tysha 287 Part 1

She gets up early in the morning to milk the cow and feed the chickens. She does laundry for others to make some extra coin. She keeps the extra coins with the twenty three silver and one gold, in a jar, that she hides behind a loose stone near the hearth. She starts making bread and lunch for Kane and his shop and Will comes in the kitchen and will wrap his arms around her ever growing stomach. 

He murmurs in her dark hair, “Surely, you will rest soon. The baby comes soon.” 

She pushes him away, singing a song, washing the dishes.

Will continues, softly. “We have the rest of our lives to work hard . You should rest.”

She smiles at him and continues singing. The baby in her stomach kicks underneath his hand. The baby always stirs when Will is nearby. 

“The boy grows restless, but I think he likes it when his mother sings.”

Will has been slow with her. After she moved upstairs, sometimes he would come and sit with her, as she knitted a blanket for the baby. Slowly, he would lay down next to her, but never touch her. Never press her for a kiss. Never. She knew he didn’t desire her like other girls. After all, she had some bastard inside her. He never spoke of how she was beautiful, like he had before they had known of the baby.

Will would bring her apples and blackberries for jam and pies. She mixed his paint and he worked on his paintings. One night, after he had painted for hours by candlelight, he had put his brushes down and run his fingers through his hair. She had spoken about how well it had started to look. He had sat down next to her, gently, even though he was so big. 

“Tysha, I know that I am just an apprentice and we live with Kane, but this won’t be how it will always be. I will be able to leave soon and start my own shop.”

She was confused about why he was talking about leaving. Maybe he was planning on leaving before the baby and he wants to tell her.

He takes her face in his hands and he kisses her sweetly, softly. “Will you marry me, Tysha?”

She kisses him back and smiles, “I didn’t think you wanted me since I was …”

He smiles, “ You are even more beautiful pregnant. You are radiant.”

She leads him to the ladder and gestures him to follow her to the loft. He is gentle and earnest and considerate. It is different with him than Tyrion. There is no wine, no tears, no silk dresses or dashing lords. Will’s hands are scarred and calloused, dirty. He smells like paint and smoke. He takes off his clothes and she takes off hers. Underneath her blanket, which is too small to cover the both of them, he uses his fingers to make her ready, tentative touches. 

He is kissing her neck, “Can I ? I don’t want to hurt the baby.. “

“I think you can..”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. 

“Are you ready? What should I do?”

She guides him into her in the dark. He makes soft noises against her forehead. It doesn’t take long for him. At one point, she catches herself counting and she can feel her body drifting away. She pulls herself back from counting and focuses on his strong back, his blue eyes, the sounds of his breath against her. 

In the darkness, he is kissing her. “I love you, Tysha.”

“I love you, too.”

In the dark, it is easy to lie. 

He kisses her neck. “Let me marry you before the baby comes. I will be his father and we never have to tell him anything else.”

“After he comes, we will..”


	9. Tysha 287 AC Part

Tysha is sure she is going to die. She had tried to keep quiet when the pain started and walk. She didn't want anyone to wake or worry. She had seen animals give birth. She knew her mother had died in a bed of blood and maybe she would too.

She fears the baby will kill her. She fears the baby will look strange to her. She wonders if she should leave it with the Silent Sisters. She has decided she will. 

The birth is hard. The midwife will not come. There is a lord whose daughter is giving birth. Kane gets the brothel owner next door to come. Her name is Melody and she comes as a favor to him. Melody is a large woman with pretty eyes.

Melody never asks of the father. Tysha is not the first peasant girl to be raped, and not the last. The woman makes her walk and tells her to scream if the pain gets too bad. Tysha does not cry out. Inside, she knows she will not be able to raise this child. Anything that might remind her of that day and Lord Lannister and his cold green eyes. The feel of each man more terrible than the last, until the last was the most terrible by far.

“You need to push girl. If you want the pain to stop, you must push.” 

There is the red blinding pain and the release of pressure, the slip of flesh and a cry. Melody has the baby wrapped in a blanket. “It is a girl, Tysha, a girl. She is lovely.” 

Tysha realizes what the woman is saying that she has a daughter. The baby has come.  
“Wouldn’t you want to see her? To hold her? “

She refuses . A girl, how could she be burdened with a girl. She had prayed everyday in the small sept to the Mother for a boy, a healthy strong boy to be safe. 

“I don’t want to.” she says in a small voice

Melody persists, “Take her. Look at her hair. It is so blonde. Looks like the sunshine.”

Melody hands the baby to the trembling girl as she continues to make sure the bleeding will stop. The baby is wailing. It is as if the girl knows she cannot be loved by her own mother. So weak and helpless. Tysha wonders if she just doesn’t feed her daughter, will she die in the night. She knows rabbits sometimes smother their young and cats and dogs sometimes refuse to nurse them. Perhaps if she doesn’t feed the baby it will go to sleep and not wake up. Is that a cruelty or nature? 

The baby looks at her, quiet for a second and Tysha looks at her gentle face with its tiny features. Melody leans over to look at the baby. “She is a pretty girl.”

Tysha sees it before anyone and because of it she allows the Melody to show her how to let the baby latch on to her breast. As the baby does, Tysha kisses the baby’s head. The baby has her father’s eyes. Different colored eyes. Tysha thanks the Mother for all her grace. 

When Melody does see it, she says that is a bad sign but Tysha thinks it is the kindest blessing the Seven could have given her.


	10. Tysha 289 AC

She has a newborn and is Will’s wife of almost two years when Lord Tywin Lannister calls up the men to go fight the Greyjoys. Tristifer is a newborn. Talia, her daughter, is two. She has ringlets of almost white gold hair and is beautiful. Will calls her his Sunflower and Kane dotes on her constantly. Melody gives Talia sweets when Tysha helps out on washing days with the linens. Even Will’s step mother loves the child, she holds her close and has her call her grandma. Talia is a charmer. Tysha knows she gets this from her father. 

Tysha works hard, She helps bake bread and make pies for the tavern or the brothel. She does the wash for some of the women in town when she can. She takes the coin for the work she does and puts it in her jar. Her jar is almost full. 

Two weeks before they ride to Casterly Rock to wage war on the Ironborn, Kane tells her that Kevan Lannister is coming with some men to pick up some of the supplies he has made in two days. Kane has never asked her why she grows nervous at the mention of their Lord’s name. She wouldn’t tell him even if he asked.   
He tells her so that she can make sure to get Melody’s daughter to serve drinks and the cakes, to make sure the front room is clean, and that all is as it should be before she goes to the Sept to pray until they are gone. She has been with him for almost three years and he knows this is what she does whenever any Lannister comes to the shop.

She bundles the baby up in the cloth that holds Tristifer to her and gets up in the dawn. The whole house is buzzing with activity. Last night, the boys helped bring water so that each one of them could be clean for the visit. She had made strawberry biscuits with cream and apple tarts. Kane yells these are men not a lady’s party, but she know he is pleased. She has grown used to his grumbles.

Tysha looks around the front room once more, as the boys carry in swords and armor from the storehouse. All is clean and well. On the wall behind them, the Battle of the Trident is painted and finished, finally. It is her favorite, because she watched him paint it from the start. She knows each part of this painting as intimately as the body of her husband..

She calls for Talia. Talia is with her husband Will in the yard. He holds her in his arms gently, as he moves things around, listening to Kane grumble, laughing at him. “This is not the first war we have fought in, Kane. All will be well.” 

Tysha goes to the yard. “Okay Talia. Come with Mama. We need to go to Melody’s and get Rosie before the lords and knights come. Then, we will go to the Sept and have a picnic by the river. Maybe we will go see Grandpa and Grandma at the tavern.”

“No.”   
It is a typical reaction for a two year old to be stubborn. It is normal she says to herself. She threatens and bargains but Talia continues to say no and cling to her father. 

Will laughs and says, “Go get Rosie. I can keep her while you get Rosie.”

Tysha goes as quickly as she can. She can feel her anxiety rising up her spine and settling in her shoulders like a yoke. Rosie is still young, maybe eleven, and she is not ready. By the time that they are exiting the back door of the establishment, they hear the sound of the horses and men. They are all in Lannister Red with banners of lions, claws extended. She grabs Rosie’s hand and pulls the baby close, rushing now. Tysha covers her hair with her shawl and thinks of her daughter in the shop with the Lannisters. 

Tysha is walking so quickly, she is almost dragging Rosie. They walk on the back path because the road is filled with wagons and soldiers, horses and men in red. Tysha’s heart is pounding and her tongue is lead in her mouth. She knows her palms are sweating but she is sweating all over. 

They get to the kitchen, through the back door, and she can hear Kane talking about the steel and the craftsmanship. She hears another voice saying that they have always been pleased with the quality of the work. She quickly puts the cakes on plates and pushes Rosie into the front room. Rosie is to collect Talia and bring her to her, so that she can leave. 

She hears Rosie pouring water when a voice that she had not heard in years breaks the sound. He is talking about how Kane should come to the Rock after the War. “It is time I need your skill as a smith.”

It is Lord Tywin Lannister’s voice, as cold and cutting as every nightmare she has. 

Then, she hears someone comment on how pretty the child is. “Talia,” Will says. “She is my daughter Thank you, my lord. Her hair is golden, like sunshine on the river, but her eyes are unusual, one is green and one is blue.” 

She stands around the corner, half crouched, like an animal preparing to flee. Listening to them make simple conversation. Every second seems like an hour, as she thinks about her precious baby in the same room with Lord Tywin Lannister. The images of all the horrible things he could do to her baby, if he knew, rises in her thoughts.

When Rosie comes into the kitchen, she grabs Talia and kisses her. Whispering words of love, she smooths back the girl’s hair and puts her on her hip. Tysha estimates the distance between herself, hiding on the hearth, and the back door. Rosie looks at her quizzically, not understanding but obviously concerned. However, there is much work to be done, so she hurries back in the front room. 

Tysha adjusts her shawl over her head but lets Talia play with the edges. She grabs the basket and heads toward the door. In a movement that only a small child could do, Talia pulls the shawl off her mother’s head and screams for her father. Horrified, she looks back for a second. Clear in her line of sight is Tywin Lannister, in golden armor and a lion engraved on his chest. She catches his eye and sees only a man who is frustrated that a small child has interrupted his conversation. No recognition. No remembrances. Just the greenest eyes she has ever seen in a cold stare. She quickly flees out the door. 

That night, she has nightmares and she has them every night until Will returns after the war is over.


	11. Talia 290-294

Will and Kane return a year later with Jack. Jack was prisoner of the Ironborn for several months during the War. He seems different and broken but Tysha does not ask questions. Healing takes time. There are parts of him that will heal and parts that never will. He has lost some fingers, some teeth, a ear, and he walks with a limp. Whatever happened, he survived. 

Will, however, returns a hero, from his part at the Siege of Pyke. Kane is proud of him and will tell the story of his bravery to anyone who will listen. Often, he starts these tales after drinking ale in the inn. None of the stories sound like her husband, good hearted kind Will, but she is not surprised that he was brave in the face of danger. According to Kane’s stories, Will saved several lives that day, but one is Lord Tomas Baitwell of Wellstone, which is in the Reach. Lord Baitwell offered Will a place in the town of Wellstone. He will give him the empty smith shop that is there and the house that is next to it as a reward for his bravery.

Will tells her it is not too far and they will add to the house to make an inn for Jack to tend. Something to take his mind off his troubles. Will has new scars on his body and a new cloak of fine blue wool. It makes him look handsome. He swings her around like she was a child, but rather than scolding him, she laughs. Her big brave husband is home from the war and many women cannot say the same. 

Will swings Talia and Tristifer, commenting on how big they have grown and how much he missed them. He looks at Tysha and says maybe they will have a new brother or sister since he is home now. 

She kisses him and is happy. They eat dinner and she listens to him make plans about their future. She is just relieved he is home. They make love twice in the dark, once rushed thick with desire and need. The second time is slow and deliberate, like they are trying to reacquaint themselves. 

Tysha hears Kane come in from the brothel late. Will is sleeping next to her. His arm is draped protectively over her. She can't sleep so she climbs down to make some tea, 

Kane is drunk. He leans in and hands her the apple whisky whispering that Lord Tywin Lannister asked about her and the child. “He asked who the father was and what unusual eyes she had.”

Kane thinks it is better that she and Will take their family and leave quickly and tell no one where they go. Tysha feels like she should say something. “Would you like to know who her father is?”

“Tysha.. In the Westerlands, outside of the Greyjoy Rebellion, all the knights and lords have to do the last ten years is talk. One of their favorite conversations is the Lannisters, who are all golden and perfect and walk a foot from the ground. Save for one… I have heard talk of Lord Tywin’s smallest son and his young poor bride who he met not far from here. On that day, he and his brother came here to have some armor made. A pretty orphan girl running from would be rapists that the young Lannister brothers protect and defend.. A young and rather foolish, Tyrion marries the girl without his father's knowledge or consent. I have heard how his Lord father punished the boy and his poor bride for their slight to him. Everyone has heard that tale.” 

She is pale and trembling listening to his whispered words.

“I have seen the jar of silver coins and a singular gold one you hide in the hearth stones. So when Tywin Lannister asked me about your daughter, I think he figured it out as well.” 

He continues as she takes a deep drink of the whisky. “You must go and keep out of their way. Lord Baitwell is a good man, but if he finds out who Talia father is, she could be in danger. After all, Tyrion is Lord Tywin’s heir and he has never been remarried and has no bastards. She could have claim to Casterly Rock.”

“No no no,. We want no trouble, no part of that. Talia will never know. We will go and I will keep quiet. Tell that to my Lord. Tell him I will be quiet and no one will know. I learned my lesson. I need her to be safe.”

Kane calms her, but she is never relaxed not until she is in the wagon with two horses and the cow and the chickens and all they own with some men from Lord Baitwell’s to keep them safe on the journey. 

Lord Baitwell is glad to have them. He comes about once a fortnight to talk to Will. Will will sometimes go to the keep and help out, shoeing horses or repairing armor. Jack and some craftsmen of Lord Baitwell’s help add to the little house. Will gets up early with Jack and sometimes works until it is well past dark, but soon the inn stands finished. It is a solid cozy structure with six windows all the way from Oldtown, four sleeping rooms, a common room, an eating room, a wonderful kitchen, three rooms for the family in the back, and stables. Jack decides to name it, The Stone and Plow. Tysha doesn’t seem to know who is prouder Will, Jack, or Lord Baitwell. 

Tysha likes the rhythms of the inn. Will works in blacksmith shop and helps out when they are busy. Jack and her cook and clean and serve. Lord Baitwell likes the idea that he has a blacksmith and an inn, as if Welstone was a proper town. They have rich farmers, knights, soldiers, merchants heading to King’s Landing stop in for food and ale and a night’s rest.. Word catches on that Auntie at The Stone and Plow makes the best meat pies on the Goldroad.

She works hard and it feels good to go to bed after a hard day’s work. Her days consist of baking, cooking, tending to her chickens, her goats, the cows, weeding the garden, cleaning the inn, doing laundry, taking care of her children. She likes the busy rhythms of the day and finds new things to do. 

She prays three times a day and cleans the Sept every day in the late morning before lunch. She prays while she cleans to keep her husband safe and well, to heal Jack, to keep her children safe and to protect Talia from the harm that could befall her. She works hard and saves all the money she can so that they will be safe. 

A few miles down the Goldroad, is a septarey, a walled garden and farm filled with silent sisters. Once a week, Tysha walks with what extra eggs or cheese she might have to bring to the Silent Sisters. She knocks on the door and leaves the food there when a novice opens the door.

After a few months, the head Silent Sister will often invite her in to drink some tea with her in their garden once a month. The woman has tried to write, but Tysha blushed and told her she could not read. Now they sit in silence about once a month. Happy blessed contentment. Tysha thinks sometimes if she didn’t have Will and her children she would come and pledge herself to the gods and become one of them. 

After some time, the Silent Sisters start to show her how to brew salves and tinctures to help sickness and relieve pain. When the town is hit with flux, Tysha helps the sick alongside the Sisters and the Septon. When the midwife is needed, Tysha is woken to the late night knocks on the inn door and the cries, “Auntie.. Auntie.. Please help.” She tries to tell them she is not a healer or a midwife, but the loved ones of the sick or desperate do not listen. So, she goes to the septarey to learn as often as she can. 

The village has a small Sept and Septon Padric spends his time between it and Lord Baitwell. Septon Padric is a happy man with a great deal of kindness and laughter in brown homespun, barefoot and big. He comes to dinner at the inn once a week and Tysha is proud when he tells her she is a model of the Mother herself. 

She has planted a garden in the yard. One day, as they plant turnips, carrots and garlic, Septon Padraic comes to her with three children, a boy of eight, a girl of six and a baby of ten months. He asks if they will foster the children, since the war has left many children without parents, either dead or abandoned. Will looks hesitant but Tysha says yes with great certainty. She looks in her husband’s eyes, confidently. This is her mission from The Seven. She asks what their names are. “Pate,” is what the boy of eight says, “The girl's name is Ami and the baby we call Lolly.” 

Over time, other boys join and girls too. There are always at least three or four foundlings or orphans being fostered at The Stone and Plow. As the years pass, some leave for King’s Landing, some to find their parents, some runaway when soldiers pass through for love or glory. Some get married or start farms. Sometimes, they come back with their bellies full of babies of their own or black eyes or broken hearts. Tysha takes care of them and puts them to work, feeding them and wiping their tears and singing her songs in the kitchen and teaching them their prayers, but Pate never leaves. He becomes Will’s right hand in the shop, sleeping on a cot above the shop and horses.

She forgets where the name Auntie comes from. It could be from the children they fostered, a simple name to call her that rang of family and maternal care but wasn’t Mama. It could be Seption Padraic started calling her this because of her devotion to the Seven and the care for the congregation and the community. It could be she chose it to not be Tysha and keep the Lannisters away from her and Talia. It might be all three. What matters is that no one knows her as Tysha anymore, except Will and Jack, and even they call her Auntie.

When she is nineteen, her third son is about six months old sleeping in a cradle that Will used his hard earned money to buy. Tysha had protested buying it. After all, they had an old one and the old one was good enough. He had bought it anyway and when he brought it home and said their son should sleep in a proper cradle, not an old box that Kane built, she knows she is lucky to have a good man who loves her and her children well. 

In the dark, she hears the children sleep and listens to Jack toss and turn near the hearth. Will pulls her close and kisses her. He is sleepy and smells of smoke and horses and the hard soap he uses to get the grime off. She thinks briefly about checking the bread dough to see if it is rising, but he whispers to her how glad she is his wife, how beautiful she is, and how glad they are spending their days together. He kisses her and touches her skillfully and lovingly. Her body responds to him in a way it never has, all heat and ache, delicious tightening, and heart pounding want. 

As she lays breathless in his arms, she finally understands what women have been talking about all these years when they whisper dirty secrets about their men and wink like she should know. Nineteen and a mother of three, married twice, she finally understands what women giggle and tease each other. Tysha laughs softly, as he pulls her close. Feeling his heartbeat under his chest, feeling the small explosions of sensations in her body make her curl into him. Will is safe and strong, hardworking and loyal. He might not be as devout, as she would like, but he makes up for it in kindness. Kindness to take in the children feed, clothe and teach them what they need. Kindness to the men and women she gives to or to Jack when he drinks too much and he has to put him to bed. Kindness to her always. She looks at his face in the darkness and says “I love you.”

She means it.  
He is almost asleep and he pulls her to the curve of his chest, as he replies “ I love you.”

She lays in the darkness, thanking the gods for her happiness. As she drifts off to sleep, she remembers the last person she said she loved was her first husband. It was so long ago and she was more a child than a woman. She remembered how deeply and passionately she thought she loved him. She was a foolish child. The last thing she thinks as she falls asleep is that she cannot recall how he looked except that Talia has his eyes. 

 

Tysha 291

After Jeremy’s first name day, her oldest is a girl of four. Lord Gerion Lannister is out riding around the Westerlands trying to recruit able bodied men for his trip across the Narrow Sea to see if he can find a sword. Talia is playing in the yard. Tristifer is two and he is playing with her in the flowers along the back of the inn where the kitchen is.

She hears that the Imp, Lord Tyrion Lannister, is with him on the Goldroad. The folk from around line up along the road to see them pass. The villagers and farmers gather flowers to throw. Gerion is well liked, quick with a joke or a coin. The small folk want to wish him well before he goes on his adventure across the Narrow Sea.

Will wants to take the children. “Take little Tris, Ami, and Pate, but not Talia. I need her help.” She says with a kiss to his cheek. Will knows Talia wants to go and the look on his face tells her that he longs to ask her why. But Will is a man who does not like to argue with his wife. So instead of asking, he and the three children head out to the road as the horses start coming into sight with their red banners.

Lolly starts crying, so Talia goes to pick her up. One minute, Talia is in the front room looking out the windows, trying to catch a glimpse. Before she leaves her daughter, Tysha tells her to get away from the window. When she comes back with Lolly, the front door is ajar and the sunflowers in a vase on a table are gone. 

Tysha goes out into the crowd to try and find her daughter with Lolly in her arms. Surrounded by all the red and gold, she catches herself looking for Tyrion instead of Talia. He is eighteen and a grown man. She wonders if he will cross the sea with his uncle to find the sword. She wonders if he ever thinks of her. The commoners call him the Imp. The last thing he called her was a whore. She had tried to tell him that his father spoke a lie, but she dared not speak against the Lord of Casterly Rock.

She doesn't really remember what he would look like. He wonders if he can remember her face. 

As she scans the crowd, she does not see anyone who might be her husband. However, she does see Lord Gerion stop and call to his man. The soldier points to a man in the front of the crowd. It is Jack, a weaver from town. He lifts up a girl in blue with hair of gold. Her daughter Talia has disobeyed her. In her hand, she has a fist of sunflowers that she gives to him. She cannot hear what Talia says over the cheer of the crowd. With great flourish, Gerion Lannister takes the flowers from her daughter and blows her a kiss thanking her. 

As soon as Lord Gerion continues on his way, Tysha marches to the front of the crowd and finds her daughter. She grabs her little hand and pulls her back to the inn, where she spanks her for her disobedience.


	12. Talia 295

She grows up in the inn that her parents own. Her father is the biggest man in the village. All day he works, shoeing horses for locals or Lord Baitwell or making and fixing tools. Sometimes, he will make swords or helmets, or armor. According to her father, somewhere by the sea, is an old man who is the best smith in the world and he taught her father how to wield a hammer and make the fires hot enough. The whole village loves her father. Sometimes at night, he paints pictures on the walls of the inn. He is painting a picture of a battle called the Battle of the Redgrass on the largest wall of the inn. She thinks it is lovely. 

Her mother is called Auntie, but that is not her real name. Sometimes, Talia forgets what is her mother's name because her and her brothers call her Mama and everyone else calls her Auntie. Even Papa. Sometimes when it is very late, her father will call her mother Tysha. Softly, like it is a secret they share. The town people call her Auntie because she is like a relative to the poor and unwell. She helps take care of the old and sick. She bakes an extra loaf of bread everyday for the Septon and one for the poor. 

She has four brothers Tristifer, Jeremy, and Lukas. She must watch them while her mother and uncle works the inn. Her Uncle Jack is still very handsome but he was captured by the Ironborn during the war. Uncle Jack limps and doesn’t smile unless he is telling them a funny story. Sometimes, he wakes screaming and Mama wakes him up and makes him tea. She gives him some medicine she keeps just for him on the shelf and sits with him until he sleeps.

Mama is always working. She never rests. She is always cleaning the inn, or churning butter, or feeding the chickens. She helps women in childbirth and takes in the orphans. She bakes pies and bread and sells them in the inn. Now, they have three boys that help Papa in the blacksmith shop and stables and three girls that help in the kitchen of the inn. Mama prays three times a day and makes it to the sept in the village at least once a day to help clean and light candles. 

Talia is constantly with her head in the clouds, full of dreams and questions. She wonders why the sky is blue and why the sun rises in the east and sets in the west or why rivers run North to South?. She has dreams of dragons. She doesn't know why she dreams of them. When she tells her mother, her mother says it's because her father started to paint a green dragon on the door of the inn. But she had dreamed about the creatures long before her father ever started painting them. When she saw the creature, she asked him what it was. He had told her it was a dragon and did she like it. She told him she loved it and she had the word for the thing she dreamed about every night. Dragons. 

When Talia is 8, she wakes from her mat near her brother Tristifer and goes finds her mother. Her mother doesn’t like Talia’s daydreaming and she really doesn’t like Talia’s dreams of dragons. But the dream was so perfect, Talia feels like she has to share it. ”Mama, I had a wonderful dream. I dreamed of my grandmother. She was beautiful. Her hair was golden like mine and she was so beautiful. She had a lions on her dress, all red and gold like her hair. She spoke like a lady and she told me that I would do wonderful things.. She said, one day I will fly on the backs of dragons.” 

Her mother slaps her, right across the face. “You never talk like that. Who do you think you are? A lady? Your only birthright is this inn and it could be burned down by next winter. You are nothing. No one. You will stay in this village and be happy you have plenty of food and a roof. Now go feed the chickens or you will get another slap. Stop filling my ears with your foolish dreams. Your grandmother had dark hair like me. If you keep talking like someone touched, I will give you to the Silent Sisters.” 

Talia runs to find her father. She is crying. She finds him brushing horses that were stabled at the inn. He sees her crying and her red face,”Sunflower what did you do today to make you so sad?” 

“Papa, I had a dream about a beautiful lady who said I was her granddaughter and she would keep me safe.”

“Did she? How pretty was she?”

Papa listensto her tell him the story, as he wet a towel and washed her face. Her father always listens to her stories and her dreams. He gives it to her to keep holding to her face and continues brushing the horses. He speaks, “Maybe it is your grandmother?”

“Mama said she wasn't. My grandmother had dark hair…” 

“Her mother did. Talia, I am your Papa and you will always be my sunshine, but I am not your father. Maybe your father’s mother had blonde hair like you. Maybe, she looks down from the Seven Heavens and protects you.” 

She climbs in his lap. “You aren’t my father…”

“I am your Pa, but I didn't make you like I did Tris or Jeremy. Your mother was pregnant with you before we were married.”

She looks at him, his stubble of a beard that he shaves every other day, the smell of horse and smoke, his smile and his strong chin. He tickles her barefeet gently, as she thinks about this news. Her world seems different knowing he is not her real father. 

“Papa, who is my father? Did you know him?”

“No, Talia, I don’t know him and your mother has never spoken of him to me. But, he must have been handsome because you are so pretty. He must have been tall and strong because you are taller than most boys your age. He must have been smart because you remember everything and can recite all the songs and poems the bards do that stop in the inn and all the history I tell you.”

“Why hasn’t he come to see me?”  
“I don’t know, Talia. Maybe he’s dead or maybe he sailed far away and can’t come as quickly as he would like.”  
She sits for a bit longer in Will’s lap. He speaks, “Talia, promise me you won’t bring this up to your mother. It will just make her sad and cross. She would probably make us all go to the sept to pray more.. “

“I promise, Pa. I won’t bring it up to Ma.”  
“You are a good sweet girl. Know that your Mother loves you. She just wants to keep you safe. Now, run and play.“

Talia does go and play, but when she gets caught in her daydreams, she often finds herself daydreaming of what a strong and handsome knight or pirate or adventurer her real father must be.


	13. Tyrion 301 AC- Part 3

After the first dinner, Tyrion can sense no malice from the young Lord Baitwell and his bride. They are too sweet and too young to understand all the danger they are in by being here. They are like sheep to the slaughter. Perhaps, Lord Tomas Baitwell knew what he was playing at, but he has burned at the Sept of Baelor with all the rest of the fools of the Reach that underestimated Cersei. Tyrion thinks of all the things that Tomas baitwell might have been scheming in King’s Landing.

Talia Baitwell does not seem to know that she is almost the image of Cersei Lannister when she was young. Though he is certain Varys and Lady Olenna know, one only has to look at her. Talia doesn’t even know not to name her mother. Tyrion wonders what game Varys and the Queen of Thorns are playing at to bring her here? 

Sometimes, he thinks to himself if he should tell his Queen. What would he tell her? Tell her that his bastard daughter, who might hate him and be here to destroy him, has actually befriended Daenerys’ dragons. How would Daenerys take that revelation? Lately, the stress of the invasion was weighing on her and the new information that Yara and her fleet had been destroyed, Daenerys seemed more anxious and slightly paranoid. Tyrion couldn’t risk that she might her Talia or Ben.

The Hand of the Queen is afraid of danger that Talia does not seem to notice and he is even more afraid of what he might do if someone tried to hurt her or take her from him. He knows they would. They might still. Tyrion finds himself thinking of this most nights until the sun breaks. He wonders what power and strength he has to protect her. He spends theses sleepless nights debating over whether he should tell Daenerys the truth. He promises himself he will and then he realizes he must tell Talia the truth before Daenerys. It is always this part of the night that the shame and guilt of what happened to Tysha paralyzes him. He could not bear to tell her of what happened to her mother and his part in it.   
Tyrion finds him arranging times to meet her, with or without Ben. He craves her company. Being with her makes him feel less alone, less angry, less broken.. It reminds him of when his world was full of Lannister relations; cousins, uncles, nieces and nephews. In the back of his mind, he is constantly thinking to himself that he will tell her this day but he never seems to find the courage to speak the words. 

He has grown fond of her. He has had so little to live on except revenge and hate. It is nice to think of her as his whether she knows it or not. He shows her Dragonstone. The library. She looks at the books, as if it a room of gold. He is surprised she can read. She tells him how Benedict taught her at Welstone. In the stables, she looks at the horses, like a master of horse, telling him which ones need shoes and which ones are good and able beasts. On the shores of the beach of Dragonstone, he watches her collect shells, purplish and pink sharped edged or blunt, softened by time and the crashing of the waves.

She has intelligent and kind eyes, a bit of her mother and a bit of him. 

People start spreading rumors of his lechery that perhaps he has taken young Baitwells wife to bed because she looks like Cersei. His perversion knows no bounds. He cares not. Let them think he is a depraved dwarf, a monster. Hopefully, it will give her protection. If Cersei knew he had a daughter, Talia would be dead. 

As the days passed he knew that she was his daughter, the way she searched for a warm patches of sunlight to curl up in like Myrcella and Jaime, how she held her quill like he did or the was she would furrow her brow when she was confused like Cersei and Tywin. Tyrion finds himself, searching for her throughout the day. He finds himself enjoying the simple stories of her life, how she fell in love with Ben Baitwell, how he taught her to read, how her father would teach her to ride, the menagerie they had at Wellstone, an ancient lion, a bear cub they were teaching to dance, two elephants..

“My mother always said I was too much a dreamer and I was. When I was almost thirteen, Ben was was married to his first wife. They had been betrothed since he was six. Gwenys Meadows It was a good match, higher social standing, the daughter of his liege lord. She was fair and plump with pretty blue eyes and pale fair hands. She had a lapdog that was small white and black and fluffy. We had to keep it from the kennel dogs or they would kill it believing it to be a rat.”

Tyrion laughed because he knew several young ladies that fit the description of Gwenys.

“I kissed him before his wedding feast. I threw myself at him. I told him I would only ever love him. I was so in love with him. He had been true and said he loved me but would not take it further He would not disobey his father. Ben told me that I must forget him that he believed his father intended to make her the fourth lady of Welstone in a few years. I cried and cried for days. Lord Baitwell said he would send me home.” 

“How did you and Ben ever marry?” 

“Lady Gwenys caught a fever and she grew sicker and sicker, until one day she would not wake. Ben waited three months and we received word that his second brother had died in the War of the Five Kings which meant his third brother was the heir. His father started to arrange his wedding to another girl, but he pleaded with his father and his father relented. His father and third brother died at the Sept of Baelor with Lord Tyrell and Kevan Lannister who was the Hand of the King.”

“Lord Baitwell sounds very kind. Too kind.”

“He was very kind and he said that if his youngest son wanted to marry for love let him. He said I was as beautiful as Queen Cersei... If only my eyes matched. Have you ever been married, my lord?”

“Twice,” he said as he held the letter he was intending to send to Sansa He had written it to tell her that enclosed were the papers to annul their marriage. It had been unconsummated and it was time to end the mummer’s farce that was his second wedding.

It was strange to think of this girl the same age as Sansa

She tells him, touching her stomach. My lord, I want to tell you something. You have been so kind to us in the last few weeks. Ben and I are expecting a baby. I am about four months gone. I wanted you to know.” 

He smiles at her. It is a secret that she shares, a simple joy. He wants to hug her and touch her stomach. It is his grandchild in her stomach. 

“I need to send word to my father, but Welstone is so far away and we are in the middle of a war. Now is not the best time to have a baby.”

“Surely, your mother would be excited... Her first grandchild.” He says, trying to act nonchalantly.

“My mother passed away about a year. She got ill and stopped eating. But I am sure my father will be excited.” 

“Do you miss her?”

“I do.. But my mother was so different than me. She was so content to live in the village and tend to the sick and my father and all the children. She was kind, meek and, pious. She would not like me here, my lord. She would say I was asking for trouble. My mother was afraid of nobles. She taught me to keep my manners. Don't speak. Don't look. We have no business with them. We are just good hard working smallfolk. Do not overreach Talia. Know your place. Now I am the Lady of Welstone.” 

After she leaves his study, Tyrion pours himself another glass of wine and feels very lonely. 

Jon Snow arrives at Dragonstone, full of stories about white walkers and dragon glass. He wants an ally and has no intention of pledging his allegiance to Daenerys. Still, it is good to see him, brooding and handsome and still alive. There has been so much death. 

 

It is about the time that Jon Snow comes to Dragonstone that he is on the cliffs watching her feed the dragons fish, freshly caught. Viserion lands behind her gently and screeches his welcome to him. She smiles and brushes her light golden hair back absently, trying to not get fish all over her face and hair. She extends her hand, so Viserion can sniff it and know her. He chirps happily like a parrot or a cub might to his mother. The great beast, the color of bone or milk bows, its head to her, so she can get closer. Tyrion is terrified that she will be gobbled up in a few quick bites.

Instead, she lovingly strokes its face and head like she might a mastiff. Tyrion has watched these beasts for years now. He knows Viserion is waiting for her to mount him. Having good sense, she does not. Instead, as if she heard his thoughts, she looks up and waves. Viserion takes flight and she wanders over to say good afternoon to the Hand of the Queen. 

 

Later that afternoon, he arranges for a ship to take Lord and Lady Baitwell back to Oldtown. It is dangerous to travel by ship and he worries about them. Travel over land would be twice as dangerous. Tyrion must get her away from the dragons, away from him, away from Daenerys, and if Jon Snow speaks true, away from the coming army of the dead. He tells Lord Benedict Baitwell to go back to Welstone and wait out the coming war with his beautiful reckless wife and his unborn child and tell no one of the past months.


	14. Talia 300 AC

Ben and some of his men rode with her, so she could see her mother. Her mother is ill and she is not getting better. Her brothers help her father with the inn and the shop, but with the wars and the packs of brigands roaming the roads, business has not been good. Pate is still with her father. Two of her brothers have been killed by the groups of armed men, drifting across Westeros.  
Some of the women of the village tend to her mother. The Silent Sisters still come and check on her once a week, even after a group of men torched their septaery and raped the Sisters. It was one of the Sisters who sent her word that her mother was dying. 

The wars and violence have taken a toll on her mother. Her mother always worries about them, worries about robbers and rapists, about soldiers and septons. Talia has no desire to ever be like her mother, constantly worrying over everyone and everything. Her mother worries whether the chickens will lay, whether the bread will rise, or whether they will be able to pay their taxes. 

She looks nothing like her mother or her brothers. They all have dark hair and blue eyes but she has blonde hair and mismatched eyes. It doesn't distract from how pretty she is. It worries her mother that she could be stolen or hurt. Talia has learned that from her mother, to be afraid that someone will hurt her. Talia still remembers the day the knight tried to hurt her behind the inn. She was eleven. Uncle Jack died protecting her. After that, they sent her away for her safety. 

Her mother seems so small, lying in the bed, pale and thin. When Tysha sees her daughter, she smiles and reaches for her. Talia takes her mother’s hand and sits in the chair at her bedside. Talia holds her hand and thinks of all the things she wishes she could change between her and her mother. She wishes she hadn't fought so hard with her or that she did not really know her mother at all. Did she ever know true love or the hot ache of watching someone you love wed another? Was her whole life making meat pies, brown bread, raising chickens ducks rabbits, figuring out how to stretch pennies or get one more hen to lay an extra egg? Could a person’s whole life be made up of, scrimping, saving, praying, working? Her mother was always praying and worrying, working until it was late, always patient, always quiet. Except with her daughter. 

There is a bowl of tea that they have been trying to get her to drink. The Septon said it might help her get better, Talia knows her mother is not going to get better. She picks up the bowl anyway and tries to get her mother to drink.

“Mother, please you need to drink the tea. It will help you stay strong. We need you. Father needs you. We all need you.”

“Talia... shh. Listen. Pray everyday. Give to the widows and orphans when you are able. Gods know, they need you too. Take care of your husband. Don’t ask for so much. Use your manners like I taught you. You are married now and you belong to him, not me.” 

“Mother, you will get better. Drink the tea.” 

“He is a strong man and he will keep you safe. But don’t vex him with all your questions and your smart remarks. Men are different and we can’t understand them. They don't understand us either.” 

“Mother,” she laughs. “You are so old-fashioned. Women can have opinions that are different from their husbands. In Dorne, women can fight as warriors. Sometimes in the North, too.” 

“Where did you learn such nonsense?”  
“Ben teaches me to read and write and we plan all the places we'll go. To King’s Landing, To the Wall, To Dorne. Maybe, we will cross the Narrow Sea.”

“Where do you get all your ideas, your airs? You would think you were raised in a castle and not in the back of an inn. Remember your place, baby. You might be as beautiful as a lady, but you are my daughter and that means you are small.”  
Talia feels the anger in her chest, even now when her mother is so sick. “Mother, I am not so small.. I am a Lady..” 

“Hush...Talia. I need to give you something before I go to sleep. I have been waiting for you to come. I need you to open my chest. At the bottom in an old worn blanket, there is something for you.”

At the foot of the bed is a small chest. Her mother has kept things in it her whole life; an old doll, a cup, a blanket she made Will that got passed down to each of the boys. Inside the chest, under the fine linen, there is an old woolen blanket grey with age and use. It has been used to wrap something soft inside. It has been tied up with string. She unties it. Inside is a cloak made of red velvet with gold trim with lions, lined with fur. It is the softest thing Talia has ever touched. 

“What is it mother?”  
“It is yours.. a gift from your father. Your birth father” 

“My father... Who was my father? Mother, will you tell me?” 

“I loved him. He was beautiful and he had the softest hands. I do not remember his face anymore…”  
Her mother falls asleep. She does not wake. In the grey light of a cold autumn day, Talia tries to wake her mother, crying.  
“Ma.. ma. wake up. I'm here. I rode all morning to come here and be with you. I'm going to make a pie. I learned how in the kitchens at Welstone. I had the cook teach me. Her name is Jenny. She told me to get out of her way but I told her she had to.. She said the lady of the house should never cook, but that's nonsense. Knowing how to make a pie is in my blood. They weren't as good as yours, but not too bad. You need to wake up and taste it. Please wake up Ma. I need you. I'm scared. Please wake up. I won't fight with you anymore I promise. You were right. Please wake up.” 

Her father finds her crying. In his gentle way, he comforts her. He tells her that her mother is tired and she will wake soon. Talia wants to tell him that she will have to return to Welstone soon and she still has so much to say to her mother. Instead, she takes the man’s arm, who raised her like his own, and lets him show her something else.  
Will takes Talia to the sept. This is the sept she spent her childhood while her mother prayed. Her father was commissioned by the Septon to repaint the Seven on the walls. Only some of the Seven are finished. The Father is finished and the Smith. She does not know for sure but she imagines that the Smith looks like Kane, his mentor. The Maiden is her image, golden haired and sweet with sunflowers in her hand and two violet blue eyes. The Mother takes her breath away. It is her mother, Tysha, young, pregnant, and smiling her soft shy smile. Her black hair is flowing down her shoulders and she is beautiful. Is this who the Mother is to him? His one true love. 

She hugs her father tightly and tells her how much she loves him. She tells him to send her a message when her mother gets better and she will come back soon to check on them.

At the end of the week, Lady Baitwell receives a message that her mother has died.


	15. Tyrion 301 AC- Part 4

Tyrion meets with her and Benedict on the coast of Dragonstone as they prepare to go to the boat to take them to the Reach.

Talia speaks, as Ben readies the boat and all their things. “We have taught the new kennelmaster all we know. Please keep them safe.”

She is talking about the dragons 

Tyrion smiles gently. “Of course, though they are dragons, I am sure no harm will befall them.”

“I don’t mean to overspeak or be insolent, my lord. My mother always told me to remember my place. She would say I would fall into a river looking at the stars. We are small folk but I have dark dreams of terrible things to come. Keep them safe, milord.” 

“Of course, Talia. I will do my best to keep them safe. But now you must promise me you will be careful and safe. You must send me notice when you are safe at Welstone. I will worry for you until you do.” 

“Of course, milord. I will and I will send you word when the baby comes. Perhaps you will be in King’s Landing then.”

“Hopefully, but we shall see.” 

She looks at him, intently. She is pregnant, showing slightly and he wonders if it is even safe for her to leave. Her brow is furrowed and she is the spitting image of his mother. There is a picture of Joanna, over a staircase at Casterly Rock. Joanna was pregnant with him, and Cersei is on her left and Jaime on her right. The idea of her leaving is painful when a few moons ago he didn't know she existed. 

“Well, when this is all done, Wellstone isn’t too far from the Westerlands. If all goes well, please come and avail yourself of my courtesy anytime at Casterly Rock.”

 

“I will try, my lord. After all, I would like to try your wine some day. The Imp’s Delight.”

They laugh and it makes him miss Jaime, ache for him like a lost limb.

“My lord, I believe I have something of yours and I mean to return it to you. My mother left it for me. I never understood it until we met.”

She hands him the package. He unfolds it and sees the red and gold cloak he wore riding with Jaime eighteen years ago when a girl ran out into the path. He is surprised how well it has lasted these years.

He looks up at her. 

“I figured it out the day you dropped your wine in the throne room. I mean no disrespect, my lord. But I think this is yours. My mother kept it a long time, so it must have meant a great deal to her.”

“She never spoke of me.”

“Once, she said you were handsome and you had the softest hands.”

The silence is deafening. 

She continues breaking the silence, “I never knew how the cloak could be so fine, so thick, and yet not long enough to cover a full grown man. I think a year ago when I first unwrapped it, I understood it belonged to the Lannisters, and in turn so did I. After all, people say that I look like Cersei Lannister’s twin. I might as well be covered in red and gold lions. When we met, I knew it was yours and you were the man who made me.”

“l didn’t know about you. I didn’t know you were alive. I swear or I would have come for you. I would have, I swear.”

“I don’t blame you and I am not angry. I had a good life on the Goldroad on the edge of the woods.. Maybe better than even Casterly Rock could have given me. I have seen how you Lannnisters fight. You were a boy, younger than I am now. Could you have changed anything, even if you had known? My Ma knew best… She kept me safe and unknown. I think she knew best. I plan to go back to Welstone and put my dreams away. After all, I have Ben and the baby and Welstone. I need nothing more than that.”

“Did she tell you? Did she tell you how we started or how it ended?”

Talia looks at him. Her face questioning. “My mother never said anything about you at all. I swear, except for the day she gave me this cloak. She said it was yours.”

Tyrion takes a breath and thinks about what he needs to say. He realizes there isn’t much that needs to be said. “Please, remember to visit after this is all done. I would like to see you again.” 

“Of course, my lord.” 

“And if you need anything, I will do what I can to help.” 

As he watches the boat grow small on the horizon, Tyrion traces the embroidery on this cloak and feels like he has done nothing to deserve the loyalty and silence of his dead wife.


	16. Tysha and Tyrion 286 AC

Tyrion holds his wife close in the dark of the cottage. 

“You are so beautiful,” he says softly. 

He is awkward and earnest. In the darkness, his folly seems far away and he is certain love can overcome all things. Tysha settles between his arms and he smells her soft black hair. She smells like hay and sunshine and he wants to spend the rest of his life with her in his arms.

Tyrion is certain that his father will understand love.

The sound of the sea is the lullaby that they drift off to sleep, listening to the steady waves.


End file.
